


What if your hand was my hand

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [7]
Category: The Lobster (2015), The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)
Genre: Alpha Patrick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, David is a precious cinnamon roll, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Omega David, Role Reversal, Top Omega/Bottom Alpha, and Patrick is super into that, they are precious babies and I want them to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: The way David saysI love younever fails to make Patrick melt like ice cream on apple pie.I love you very much,he’ll say plainly, the way one might sayit’s raining outsideorhumans need oxygen.As if it’s just a fact, something Patrick must already know. He says it in the exact same calm tone he says anything, but he never fails to catch Patrick’s eyes before he says it.He saysI love youthe way most people sayit’s okay,and Patrick never knows how badly he needed to hear it until he does.DAY 7 of KinktoberWritten for prompts: Fingering |Whips| Role Reversal |Glory Hole
Relationships: David (The Lobster)/Patrick (Perks of Being a Wallflower)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	What if your hand was my hand

**Author's Note:**

> ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT LET'S DO THIS SFLDJKADSLKJ
> 
> my first EVER omegaverse fic y'all, so please go easy on me ^_^
> 
> Thanks to iPumperdiddle for patiently talking me through A/B/O "rules." You're the best ^_^

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Patrick swallows, nods, and tries to focus on relaxing. He’s an alpha, he’s not at all used to this, but David…sweet, tender-hearted David, who would never in a million years ask for this no matter how badly he wants it…is not like the other guys he’s dated. David is good. David deserves this. David, frankly, is _hot._

There’s absolutely no justification for thinking so, of course, according to his friends. Even Sam and Charlie had to work hard to hide their surprise when they first met David. To say nothing of the side-eye he got from his parents. But it doesn’t matter, because _Patrick_ knows what he sees in David. He knows that the quiet facade hides something firm and reliable and _strong,_ and he was captivated by the gentle omega the minute he set foot in the man’s classroom. There’s something inherently soothing about David’s presence, as if the tender vibes he radiates are specifically calibrated to calm Patrick’s frenetic energy.

And after everything…after _Brad…_ he needed someone who wasn’t ashamed of him. Someone who didn’t need to pretend. And David, if anything, seems to think Patrick should be ashamed of him. Which Patrick most certainly is not. He knows how it feels, though, and he’s always careful to reassure David in his vulnerable moments that, no, he is _not_ “fat and ugly” and he _deserves_ every bit of the affection Patrick showers on him.

But tonight is special. Tonight, Patrick wants to ask David to bond with him, and so as an offering he is giving himself to David, yeah, like _that,_ because he wants to make the ultimate romantic gesture to this sweet, kind man who loves him so well. _How do you feel about topping me tonight?_ he asked when he got home from his last final, and David went all flushed and glassy-eyed the way he does when something _really_ appeals to him but he doesn’t want to say it out loud.

Which brings him to now: David is kneeling between his spread legs, two fingers deep in him, watching him closely with that eagle-eyed stare, trying to suss out if Patrick is in any pain. Which…he’s not? Not really? But oh God he has no idea how this is supposed to feel and he’s…really in his head. Is he doing this right? Is David enjoying this, or is this the part that no one is really supposed to enjoy?

The thing is…alphas are supposed to be everything to their omegas. Protect them. Love them. Die for them, if it comes to that. Patrick doesn’t know if David would even let him do that, because—well, it’s just who David _is._ David doesn’t like fuss or dramatics or big gestures; he wouldn’t think it was romantic if Patrick took a bullet for him, he would just be sad.

Patrick never wants David to be sad. Ever.

“Is this right?” he blurts out, tensing up and then wincing when tensing up causes a brief stab of pain. “I mean, when I do this part to you—the stretching, and everything—you seem to like it, so—is it _supposed_ to feel nice?”

David looks surprised. “Well, yes. Not as good as your knot, of course. But it does feel very nice.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know how to—to _do_ this, you know?” Suddenly Patrick feels lost, almost as lost as the day Brad’s goon tripped him in the cafeteria. Oh God. He’s a terrible alpha, he just knows it, and if he tries to bite tonight David will push him away and—

“No,” David says suddenly, and Patrick tenses again as David withdraws his fingers. An arm slides under his shoulders, and David draws him in close for a kiss. “Your scent is all wrong,” he observes. “You’re unhappy. Can I fix it?”

(Patrick has been told he smells like eucalyptus, sharp and fresh and strong, and when he’s aroused or extremely happy there’s an undertone of spiced tea. David has never told him what he smells like when he’s sad, just that it’s “all wrong.”)

Patrick shakes his head. Shame flushes across his face, and he willingly buries his face in David’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He can’t help but relax _now,_ of course; David’s so soft and so warm and so…so _good._ Patrick snuggles into his arms, and tries not to think about how wrong this is, how _he_ should be the one comforting David—

“Please, tell me what to do,” David entreats him in that soft, easy monotone of his, the voice that others have complained is “flat” and “creepy.” Patrick finds it wonderfully calming. “I don’t like it when you’re upset. I just want to help.”

“I love you,” Patrick blurts out. “And I—I want to _belong_ to you, but I—I can’t do this, I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s not true. Any one of your friends will tell you it’s the other way around.”

Patrick hates how resigned David sounds, like his self-deprecation is unbiased fact. “No, you don’t understand, it’s not—I _want_ this, I _want_ you to take me, I want you to _hold me,_ I—” He breaks off and fights down a wild urge to cry. “I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?” David runs a gentle hand up and down his back. “You’re a very good lover, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Alphas aren’t supposed to want to be held, or fucked,” Patrick bursts out unhappily. “I wanted us to bond tonight and—” He breaks off and presses his face deeper into David’s chest, praying for a lighting bolt to strike him down. _He’s never going to keep me,_ he thinks despairingly.

Instead, David very carefully rolls them over so that Patrick is underneath him. He kisses Patrick all soft and slow, the kind of kiss that says _I don’t have to claim you, because you already belong to me,_ and the frenzied cadence of Patrick’s heart eases into an almost-normal pace. This is good, Patrick thinks as David kisses his neck, down his chest, peppering sweet little love-bites along his collarbones, trailing down to his belly button. Something about this feels _right._

David uncaps a bottle of lube and slicks up a finger, which he gently presses into Patrick as he says, “Now, try to relax. Tell me if you are in any pain, and I will try to make it feel better.” Something in Patrick’s eyes must speak to him, because he adds, “It will feel good if you don’t fight it.”

“I know, I know…it’s just in my nature,” Patrick reminds him apologetically. He could blame it on his presentation, but he knows better. Alpha, beta or omega, he would still be a fighter. It’s just the way he is.

“Yes, but you don’t have to fight me. I don’t want to hurt you. I love you,” David reminds him.

The way David says _I love you_ never fails to make Patrick melt like ice cream on apple pie. _I love you very much,_ he’ll say plainly, the way one might say _it’s raining outside_ or _humans need oxygen._ As if it’s just a fact, something Patrick must already know. He says it in the exact same calm tone he says anything, but he never fails to catch Patrick’s eyes before he says it.

He says _I love you_ the way most people say _it’s okay,_ and Patrick never knows how badly he needed to hear it until he does.

Now when he says _I love you_ Patrick feels himself giving in, relaxing into his touch as easily as breathing. His eyes flutter closed as David gently works him open, first with one slick finger and then, after confirming it’s all right, with two. “How is it?” David asks, as casually as though he were asking about dinner.

“It’s…nice,” Patrick breathes, and then lets out a startled _mmph!_ as David hits something inside him that sets his nerve endings on fire. “Oh God. Oh my God is that… _oh._ Oh, that’s…that feels good.”

“It should.” David continues to gently stroke him from the inside and, just when Patrick thinks it can’t get much better, adds a third finger. His eyes never leave Patrick’s face and it’s almost overwhelming. _Almost._ It’s hot, it’s _so_ hot, and—

 _“Ahhh,”_ Patrick gasps as he feels himself swelling, feels his climax building relentlessly inside him as David crooks and twists his fingers. “David I—you’re gonna make me—”

“Oh,” David replies thoughtfully, sounding almost surprised, and presses down, and Patrick’s back arches as he comes hard, a shout of mingled pleasure and shock punching its way out of his throat.

He’s come outside an omega before. Usually in his early teens, when he’d just figured out how to get himself off and wasn’t exactly spoiled for choice when it came to omegas to screw. He knows how it feels to get off without knotting, but something about this time feels…different.

David leans in and swallows his gasping moans with a kiss. “Are you all right?” he asks when Patrick finally remembers how to breathe.

Patrick has to actually think about it for a second, because David’s fingers are still inside him and _holy hell_ that feels amazing. “Yeah,” he finally manages. “Yeah. Are you—is that it? Is it—over?”

David shakes his head and presses a few light kisses against Patrick’s neck. “No, sweetheart. Not yet. Do you still want me inside you?”

“You are inside me—” _And I could keep you here forever._ “I—I don’t know what I want,” he admits. “You just—do what you like. Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” He’s dizzy from the possibilities, flushed with pleasure at the idea that David can just—take what he wants from him. How many times, he wonders, has an alpha let David do that? Probably not many. Hell, he’s still not sure he should be allowed to do this. To make himself feel better Patrick offers shyly, “If you…if you want me to knot you I will. You don’t have to do anything different. If you don’t want to.”

David considers this with the same gravity he affords every choice and then decides, “I think I do like the idea of fucking you.” A shiver runs down Patrick’s spine at the words, and he watches, mesmerized, as David stands up and pulls him to the edge of the bed. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says matter-of-factly, and then gently guides Patrick’s legs around his waist and—

_Oh._

Omega cocks are on average thinner than those of alphas, and for that Patrick is immensely grateful, because David already feels so big inside him and he’s honestly not sure he could handle it if there was… _more._ He can’t move for a moment, shocked into silence and stillness for once in his life, and David, ever tuned in, immediately asks, “Is everything all right?”

It takes a moment for Patrick to find his voice, and when he does, all he can say is, “Move…please.”

And David does, slowly at first, considerately giving Patrick time to adjust to the feeling of being fucked, something for which Patrick is infinitely grateful because it’s…intense. With every drag of David’s cock inside him he feels lighter, freer, as if every thrust lifts a burden from his heart. _This is not wrong,_ he thinks, mind floating free on a tide of bliss as David rocks into him with more purpose, more force. _He wants this. I want this. It’s right. It’s good. We can have this._

“I love you,” David murmurs between thrusts. “I love you very much. Are you enjoying this? Do you want me to stop?”

“Please don’t,” Patrick breathes, and sucks in a deep gasp of air only to realize that David’s scent has, for once, completely overpowered his. He’s drowning in a cloud of something sweet and tangy and rich— _raspberries,_ he thinks distantly, _and rose wine, and pink lemonade_ —and suddenly his alpha instinct is rearing again and all he can think about is how badly he wants to bite, knot, _take._

“David,” he gasps. “David, wait, I—I need—I’m sorry, I want this, I just—it’s so _much—”_

With a strength he didn’t know his omega possessed, David lifts him and turns them around so that Patrick is in his lap—all somehow without separating their bodies for a second—and crushes Patrick’s hips in a bruising grip, forcing him to bounce up and down on David’s cock, and oh, _God._ If being fucked was intense, riding his omega is all-consuming. Patrick is burning alive, flames licking through his veins; he wants, he _wants,_ everything is heat and desire and need and sharp, tangy-sweet scent that makes him dizzy.

“I want to bite,” he gasps between thrusts. His legs ache from bouncing up and down, his head is spinning and he’s so close to coming again it _hurts._ “I need to bite, I need—I need _you.”_

And one hand lets go of his hips and tangles in his sweaty hair, and suddenly his face is buried in David’s flushed neck and his lover is telling him, his voice quivering in a way that is quite un-David-like, “Mate me, sweetheart. I’m yours.”

“We can’t take it back—”

“But would you want to?”

No. Patrick wouldn’t. Nineteen is young to be bonded, and he knows what his parents would say, what his friends would say—he’s no good, Patrick deserves someone young and beautiful, someone who’s not twenty years his senior and can give him more than one child if that—but he doesn’t care. _Until death do us part,_ he thinks with a hysterical little laugh, and then David thrusts into him again and he’s overwhelmed with need and—

He bites, and David tenses beneath him and comes with a high-pitched keen very different from his usual soft gasps. Patrick can’t let go, his body clenched down on David’s cock, his teeth sunk deep into the scent gland. David’s scent is everywhere and Patrick comes, shaking and uncontrolled and desperate, and his scent intensifies too and the room must be filled with it. If someone were to walk in right now, they’d probably choke to death on the pheromones.

For an infinite moment, there’s nothing. Just them. Just their scents mingling in the air, the sound of their hard, quivering breaths, the feeling of sweat cooling on their flushed bodies. Patrick can taste blood—his _mate’s_ blood—under his teeth and part of him is elated, the other part sickened at the thought of having hurt _his David._ He can feel David shaking, can feel _himself_ shaking, and some rational part of his brain suggests it might be nice to lie down.

Slowly he manages to withdraw his face from David’s neck. “Are you okay?”

David nods and holds Patrick a little tighter. “I feel very good. Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

Patrick laughs, short and sharp and amazed. “Oh my God. I just bit you so hard you bled and you’re asking if you hurt _me?”_

David smiles a little and scoots back on the bed, lowering himself back and taking Patrick with him. They both audibly sigh in relief as they lay down, their exhausted bodies melting into one another as they finally rest. Patrick hums contentedly as his head falls naturally to David’s chest, relishing the sound of his mate’s steady, soothing heartbeat. 

“Does it feel different, for you?” he asks after a moment (or maybe an hour). “I still feel the same. Like. I still feel like I love you and want to be close to you, and would totally rip apart anyone who tried to hurt you.”

David considers his answer carefully (Patrick expects nothing less) before he answers, “I already knew I loved you, or I wouldn’t have let you bite.” Pause, and then, “I feel like I want to carry your child.”

Patrick laughs shakily, tears inexplicably pooling in his eyes. “My parents are going to flip.” He presses his face into David’s chest briefly before he looks up and requests, “Can Sam and Charlie be the godparents?”

“Of course. Do you want to marry before we have a child? Legally speaking it’s for the best. The university can’t fire a married, pregnant omega, and I know it’s traditionally the alpha’s job to provide, but in today’s economy I think it’s best for me to keep my job…”

David is so practical, and Patrick loves that about him, but right now, this is the least romantic thing he could imagine. “Sh-h-h.” He lifts his head to silence David with a kiss. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I love you. God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There’s more to talk about. But right now, Patrick just wants to be close to his mate, and that’s enough. That’s _everything._


End file.
